


Underneath the Ice

by ClockworkDinosaur



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/ClockworkDinosaur
Summary: There was something about Robert Lutece that made Booker want to shatter his facade of aloofness.





	Underneath the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> the working title of this was "sad bi and ready to try"
> 
> first time writing a Bioshock Infinite fic like this, critique is rad

There was something about Robert Lutece that made Booker want to shatter his facade of aloofness and expose whatever was underneath.

Maybe it was the glimmer of amusement in his eyes when Booker countered his quips with his own. Maybe the raised eyebrow when he found Booker half-drunk at inopportune times. Or maybe the barely-there turn of his lips when Booker let his gaze linger just a moment too long.

There was more to Robert Lutece than met the eye, not counting the temporal predicament he and his twin found themselves in, and Booker was more than intrigued.

Finding him without his twin was a chore Booker wasn't quite sure he could manage. Much like the coin he and Rosalind were so fond of, they were as inseparable as heads and tails. A million ideas formed and died in his head. The Luteces only seemed to exist wherever it was least convenient for Booker and his flirtatious intentions.

Not to mention Elizabeth, so often glued to her father's side. She helped him work, helped him from getting too far into the drink, helped him realize when he was making an ass of himself.

He didn't need anyone else to tell him when he was making an ass of himself really, he was well aware of when he did something uncouth, but Booker found it rather hilarious to watch his daughter's face go bright red as she dragged him out of his predicament.

Their tiny apartment kept no secrets. If he were to have Robert visit, she would need to be elsewhere. He just had to figure out how.

As she was when she had spare time, she was curled up on the couch like a cat, her knees tucked underneath her and her skirt wrinkled. He sat at his desk and watched her flip through her book, engrossed in the story. Booker didn't make much, but every cent he could spare went to her and her goal to rebuild her lost library's worth of books. She had amassed quite a collection already, one that she had read through several times in its entirety.

“Elizabeth,” Booker started. She looked up at him with her deep blue eyes, dazed for a moment before giving him a smile.

“Hm?”

Booker tapped his fingers against the desk. “Have you talked to Rosalind recently?” he asked casually.

“No, why?” Elizabeth tilted her head, eyebrows pulled together.

“It's just been a while since I've heard from either of them, figured I'd see if you had any better luck.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Sorry father. It's been quite-”

She was cut off by a knock at the door. A knowing looked passed between father and daughter as the stood.

“You know what they say, speak of the devil...”

“And they show up at your front door,” Booker finished, standing to greet the surprise visitors that were somehow no surprise at all.

There they stood, identical cool blue-gray gazes trained on Booker as he welcomed them inside. It was almost eerie how they moved in sync, but the DeWitts were used to such oddities from their fellow Colombian escapees.

“Before you answer the door, it's almost as if we're both there and not there,” Rosalind mused in lieu of a greeting.

“Schrodinger’s visitors, one might say?” Robert said.

“What a cliche observation.”

“But a true one nonetheless.”

It almost seemed like a private joke shared between the two, but nearly everything they said had that same quality.

Elizabeth put her book on the shelf and smiled. The indecipherable antics of the Luteces never ceased to amuse her, even when they confounded Booker to no end. Deciding not to humor their strangeness, he cleared his throat.

“Can I get you two anything? Um, water, whiskey...?” he trailed off. His attempts at being a gracious host were apparently as flimsy as they felt, and Elizabeth looked quietly embarrassed.

He thought it was a valiant attempt.

Rosalind shook her head. “I'm actually here for Elizabeth.”

Irrational fear jumped Booker's senses into overdrive. His heart seemed to stop and start back up at a million miles a minute in the miniscule pause between Rosalind's sentences, a million situations playing out in his head of Elizabeth being taken away again so soon after they managed to settle down and make their own way outside of Colombia.

“There's been a new bookshop opened and I'd like a fellow intellectual’s opinion on the selection.” With that, she tossed a pointed look at Robert. Booker relaxed.

“It seems I am no longer her intellectual equal,” Robert said dryly. “I have made, in her opinion, a poor choice.”

“You have indeed,” Rosalind said.

“New bookstore?” Elizabeth said, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “I'd love to see it, let me go grab my things!”

She hurried off and left Booker alone with the Luteces. They studied him coolly, faces carefully blank as they looked down their upturned noses.

“So...” Booker started.

“If you so much as make my brother frown for a nanosecond too long I will personally see to it that you never sleep again,” Rosalind said suddenly. With her tone so casual, Booker nearly missed the threat.

“I'm sorry, what?” Booker said.

Robert pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Rosalind, please.”

“I'm merely making sure we are all clear on what will happen should this play out unfavorably,” she said, crossing her arms. She looked Booker up and down and despite her smaller stature, he was almost afraid.

It was then Elizabeth emerged from her room, well dressed and ready to go. She nearly pulled Rosalind out of the apartment with the quickest of goodbyes. Rosalind gave Booker a knowing look just as the door slammed shut.

“There were definitely more elegant ways to go about this,” Robert said, his nervously tapping foot the only sign of his unrest.

“And what is _this_ exactly?”

“If all goes well, courtship.”

Booker blinked. “That's pretty straightforward, don't you think?”

“I feel we've danced around the issue for long enough, don't you agree?” He said it confidently, but Booker could see the spark of concern in his eyes.

Booker smirked. “Maybe. Though I admit I didn't see much dancing from you.”

“I for one can't imagine you dancing at all,” Robert said, his amused tone as close as Booker had ever come to hearing a laugh from him. “Perhaps I could teach you.”

Something on Booker's face must have emboldened Robert. He took a step closer, looking up with an expression bordering on coy.

“I'm a man of science, Mister DeWitt. There's much I could teach you.”

Booker didn't trust his mouth to speak, so he went with the next best thing: pressing his lips against Robert's. He gasped against Booker's lips, with surprise or pleasure Booker wasn't sure. Robert was quite obviously inexperienced, but eager as he pulled Booker closer. His fists balling up Booker's shirt against his chest was more than enough encouragement to deepen the kiss.

They parted after what felt like hours, lips raw and faces red, gasping for air.

“It seems there are a few things you can teach me as well,” Robert managed after a moment, straightening Booker's shirt in a feeble attempt not to make eye contact and do something with his nervous hands. “What do you say?”

Booker was enjoying the sight of the very uncharacteristically flustered Robert, not to mention his hands on his chest.

“I'd say... something wittier if I weren't so otherwise engaged. But yes, absolutely.”

 


End file.
